Tattoo
by nlightnd
Summary: A bond is formed between Loki and Ryley Banner who is designated as his keeper while he serves his sentence on Earth. Magic binds them together, a contingent of his release from Asgard. Dark and light. Cold and hot. Dislike segues into understanding and friendship. How can she maintain objectivity when he makes her heart beat like a tattoo?


A/N: This is my first Avengers story. I'm certainly entranced by Loki, even though he's a villain. There's just something about a bad boy. I'm not one for strict characterization, although I'll try not to veer too far into horrible OOCness; if I fail...feel free to speak up, but that doesn't mean I grant you open opportunity to flame (there's a difference between constructive criticism and flaming). Also, this chapter is the only one in which I'll post the disclaimer (it's gets too damned repetitive for my tastes).

Disclaimer: All characters, aside from my own, are the sole property of Marvel Studios and the genius that is Stan Lee and Co. No monetary means are gained from this story.

Chapter 1

All of his plans wasted. An uneasy, unwanted alliance interrupted- broken, if you will. The Tesseract lost to him, once again carefully ensconced within Asguard's fiercely guarded, treasured, vaults. Imprisoned as a consequence of his actions and motivations, the jaded, scorned prince pondered repeatedly his actions and those of the strange assortment of men and women gathered to defend their people, their planet. Had it not been for the green monstrosity, Man of Iron, and Thor, all their efforts would've been empty, meager. They would have been his. His to rule. His to subjugate. Every last mortal his to do with as he pleased. His jaw tightened acknowledging his failure. The race that Thor protected narrowly avoided bowing to his will, the violent clutches of the Chitauri.

Someday he'd pay the price for his deficiency, his incompetence, as The Other and Thanos warned should he fail to deliver the desired prize. Pain and retribution. A promise. A premise of the suffering to come once he was found.

He was loath to hide, incarcerated as a war criminal under ground, separated from civilization, from his family. Maybe, for now, it was best, he thought angrily. He wished to spare his mother any more heartache; Odin and Thor be damned. Odin rarely frequented his cell. Frigga, however, could barely stay away. Aside from his mother, Thor, whom he shared what he considered a refutable brotherly claim, he was surrounded yet alone.

Cool green eyes swept over his meager cell, sparse furniture and small literary collection courtesy of Thor and his mother. A smirk crossed his lips watching his fellow inmates anger and fury over their imprisonment, throwing their bodies against the invisible shield covering the front of the cells, fists slamming against the barrier before throwing the offender backwards with a stout shock.

Guards ever present, somberly standing sentinel. They rarely spoke unless to converse with each other. At times, they found it humorous to tease and taunt those they watched. Their behavior, as well as his fellow inmates, irritating and irrational. Escape was futile. Attempts just as much.

Between reading and meditating, visits from Frigga and Thor, his sanity managed to hold steady. He was thankful for the reticence that befell the area. Overwhelming quiet weighed heavily yet brought a sense of relief, allowing for the rational thoughts returning. Time. Too much time to contemplate every occurrence wrought by himself, his former allies- now enemies, and indirectly, his family.

Verdant eyes, hard and pensive, stared straight ahead, seeing yet not, his brilliant mind elsewhere, his lean, physical form anchored in his cell on Asgard, his face calmly impassive, Loki awaited Odin's judgement. Several creative and cruel ideas sprang to mind; either way he was expecting a great deal of pain and misery. It was worth it. Every moment. He'd discovered more about himself, Thor, The Avengers and Midgard than previous knowledge dictated. He'd believed them a weak, pathetic race. A race in need of ruling. Frail mortal bodies prostrate within his presence, his very name revered, feared, like the god he is. Yet it wasn't to be. Meddling Avengers. If it wasn't for them, he'd have his kingdom, all that he desired. And perhaps, his accomplishment might've brought pride to Odin, despite the elder god's spoken negations on the notion. To be recognized for his great deeds instead of being ignored, overshadowed by Thor.

Long dark locks shifted, falling forward into a curtain around his pale, angular face. So many plans. So many failures, regrets. Their weight pulled at him inside and out. His tall form slightly hunched, weary from the constant reminders of everything he was, everything he lacked. His eyes snapped up sensing an oncoming presence.

Green orbs shifted to glance down the hall upon hearing lumbering, swift footsteps from a short distance, approaching down the stone corridor, torches glowing brightly in golden sconces upon the walls. A smirk stretched across his thin lips, already aware of his visitor's identity. A heavy metal door creaked open and admitted a tall muscular form. Loki couldn't help the mirth that welled. He couldn't resist.

Footsteps fell heavily outside his cell, the translucent shimmering outline of his prison glowed, then faded, the pattern seemingly reacting to the stormy emotions of his visitor. Loki lifted his right knee to his chest, resting his pale hand on it, his head leaning back against the wall behind him, eyes carefully watching his guest. He smirked arrogantly at the figure who'd arrived, staring somberly at him, strong arms by his side, fists balled tightly, cerulean eyes observing the royal prisoner with a heavy heart.

So, it was time. Judgement had arrived, it seemed. Time to face the consequences of his actions.

"So nice of you to visit, Odinson" he muttered sarcastically, leaning forward to study Thor's rugged features. Worry mixed with anger and pain etched in every line, including his mesmerizing eyes. He appeared to have aged somewhat since their return to Asgard. What else weighed heavily on the heir's shoulders? What else indeed? He assumed it was something worthy of exploitation later with more information.

"I know not, brother, what to make of you sometimes. Your attempted domination of Midgard, the death and destruction you caused...How can you sit there unaffected? Have you pondered all the mortal lives you've devastated? The pain, confusion and loss? The pain that our mother, our father, have felt- and still feel? Justification extends only so far, as do surrounding circumstances." Thor spoke sadly, confounded. The blond god pondered all the poisonous words that had previously fallen from Loki's lips prior to and during his siege of Manhattan, rage radiating from his eyes so angry and so lost.

And it was true. Growing up, rivalry existed constantly between both princes. Thor always bested Loki in most things with the exception of the magical arts and intellectual pursuits. Loki had never felt truly accepted; Thor had only recently gained knowledge of this, and was unhappy that his brother had been excluded from everyone's acceptance, especially their father's. However, no matter how much he loved his brother, Loki's betrayals cut him to pieces. Attacking Midgard, its inhabitants, aiding enemies...the list of heinous crimes grave. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of relief upon their father's verdict, which was his purpose in standing before Loki. The young Aesir prince hopefully would come to realize and appreciate the wisdom in their father's decision.

"Father has ruled, brother-"

"We are not brothers," he hissed, displeased at Thor's insistence at the familial term which Loki refused to recognize any longer. The betrayal he suffered at the hands of Odin in regards to his true parentage, unrecognized feats and needs...All contributions to the bitter, enraged god before him.

Thor dismissed his statement with a wave of his hand, blue eyes suddenly hard, not an ounce of forgiveness shining in their deep depths. "You are to make amends with both Asgard and Midgard. You are sentenced to spend an undetermined amount of time with the mortals, help them rebuild, protect them from any threats. As for Asgard's recompense, your punishment has yet to be determined and will be decided upon your return. There are certain expectations, demands- limits, if you will, for your release to Midgard."

He beckoned a guard forward. A wooden box, held open, revealed dual silver bracelets; their designs intricate: a serpent wrapped within entwining vines. "Simple appearing, are they not? These are indestructible and their removal can only be enacted by one of two people. You will not have knowledge of either person." He smiled sadly, knowing the consequences of said bracelets and their full purpose. "Pain like no other will you feel should you attempt to harm any mortals or remove your bracelet."

Loki's entrancing eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his mind working to divine the true function of the somewhat innocuous appearing jewelry before him, resting in the red velvet-lining. "What if my actions are in defense of those I'm to protect? To what purpose does the secondary serve?"

The tall, muscular, blond god knew his brother would follow that very line of thought. His brother so shrewd, so intelligent- beyond any of their kind. "The second bracelet's owner, wearer, has been determined and will be adorned upon our arrival. As for the capabilities, if protecting a mortal, your abilities can be unleashed, if necessary, the bracelets are adaptable and Stark, or Man of Iron, as you know him, will constantly monitor everything. Stand and prepare to receive the first step of your penance. Afterwards we will travel to your new abode."

Another guard stepped forward and released Loki from his prison. He stood close as the infamous trickster and liar stretched out his left wrist, feeling the cool metal as Thor placed the metallic object around his wrist, he felt a burning sensation and with a click it adjusted to the appropriate size. A green light suddenly eminated from the bracelet, the metal vanishing, the design now encircled his wrist, appearing as a freshly inked tattoo.

The box closed with a heavy, hollow sound. Thor grasped Loki's arm and led him to the remains of the bifrost, Mjolnir in hand. He watched his brother grimly, spinning the powerful weapon in his hand, suddenly launching them into the air and towards their destination.

The elevator dinged alerting Tony and Pepper to someone's arrival. Jarvis had already revealed the person's identity prior to allowing his ascent.

A man of medium height with brown hair in his early forties stepped from the metallic confines dressed in a black suit. His face blank, his blue eyes searching, sweeping the area looking for the subject of his visit. He blinked, his posture stiff, and walked into the living room, a small laptop clutched to his chest.

"Phil!" Pepper's face lit up at the agent's presence.

He was one of the few agents within S.H.I.E.L.D. she actually liked and could easily converse with without suffering an overkill of egomania. Tony was more than enough. A massive amount of paranoia coupled with said egomaniacs...never a great conversational subject, and it made for very short, heated discussions.

"Pepper," he returned with a slight smile. "How are you?" He crossed over to where the duo lounged on the leather couch, an action movie playing on the large flat screen over the fireplace against the opposite wall.

"I'm fine. How's the cellist?"

"No go."

"Really?" The strawberry blond voiced her regret, knowing how much he'd cared for the musician. "Tell me about it later?"

"Sure."

"Agent Coulson," Tony stood, jealousy radiating from his tall, lean body, accentuating the agent's title, subtly reminding Pepper of the other man's name and job status, annoyed that his girlfriend was on a first name basis with him. He wore she did it purposely just to piss him off.

Coulson's chin lifted and sighed. "Enough pleasure, then. Down to business. Is _she_ here?"

"Yes." Tony kept it simple. He'd learned long ago that when dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D keep your answers brief, concise. Even they could pick apart an answer, twisting it to suit their needs if one wasn't careful. "What do you want with her?"

Coulson nodded, relief apparent. "I need to see her. Now."

Uh-oh. Tony had a sinking feeling in his gut. Hopefully the agent wasn't here to inform the woman of her upcoming mission. The air around him seemed to grown somewhat heavy with apprehension, weighted with the knowledge he'd been instructed to impart but never did.

"Phil, she's in her room." Pepper instinctively knew that Tony wasn't about to reveal their friend's location. By the look on Tony's face, something pretty significant was about to happen, and it didn't look good. She took his hand and sat him down on the couch. "I think we need to talk, Tony. Or should I say that _you_ need to talk." Her eyes bore into his, questions in her gaze, demanding answers.

"Pep, you know I usually tell you everything, right?"

"Usually?"

"Ok, most of the time. They're a bunch of uptight pricks, and I live to be a pain in Fury's ass. Well, not just his, but all of them. It's rather amusing to irk the hell out of them," he defended, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'm a genius and can't resist showing my intellect and prowess to everyone, so sue me."

"Tony..." she growled lowly at him, her patience wearing thin with his antics.

The billionaire slowly began explaining his position and the situation that would soon arrive to their very doorstep.

"Goodbye Pepper, Mr. Stark." Coulson bid them farewell and stepped into the elevator appearing as unflappable as upon his arrival. "She's all yours," he smirked, causing uneasiness in the confused couple.

It was a rare occasion when Phil Coulson smirked. Especially when he flashed his devious smirk that left people wondering if the sky was falling or the world ending.

"Pepper? Mr. Stark? What the hell was that?" Anger laced his tone, upset that the agent addressed Pepper by her given name while the older man used his surname. "So...Pepper, huh?"

She punched his arm in consternation. "Don't start with me, Stark! You still haven't finished what I'm sure is to be a rather astounding and illuminating explanation."

Tony knew he'd pay in rather cruel, blatant ways after this. He cringed inwardly aware of how much damage the tall, thin woman could do. She was rather efficient at everything she did, including a higher form of mental and emotional blackmail and torture. Damn. He was screwed.

"Wait for it," he warned. "Five, four, three, two, one."

Another voice broke into their disagreement. Outrage prominent in her tone tinged with disbelief.

"Tony Stark! What the hell have you done?!"

Pepper's eyes slid warily over to him and muttered questioningly, "What have you done now, Tony?"

"Do I ever do anything? I'm the epitome of innocence."

She scoffed and the owner of the voice strode into view. "Please," she huffed. "You're ever the center of someone's ire somewhere."

Ryley Banner stormed into the room, furious. She glared at the duo sitting on the couch, however she hoped Pepper knew it wasn't meant for her. She couldn't help that her boyfriend was a pretentious dick. She shoved her long, wavy brown hair behind her ears and crossed her arms. Deep green eyes expressed her extreme displeasure. Hands on very curvy hips, she fought the urge to strangle the hell out of him; of course most people battled the same urge on a daily basis. The infamous billionaire/ philanthropist/ party boy poster-child/ Avenger never failed to expect entitlement wherever he traveled, and from those surrounding him. All just because he was beyond wealthy, a genius beyond measure and handsome to boot- although she'd deny it if ever confronted. Finishing off the annoying package...an uncontrollable, blatant ego.

Tony inwardly groaned. Her new assignment for S.H.I.E.L.D. had been revealed. Damn! Fury had horrible timing. She was supposed to remain unaware until right before their "guest" arrived. If she was this pissed off about it, he could only surmise what her big, older brother would think. He'd be lucky if he escaped unscathed after the green guy was through.

He rose to his feet and crossed the room to the bar. Pouring a scotch, he offered her a drink. She cooly ordered a vodka with cranberry and grenadine, all ingredients doubled. "A girl after my own heart," he smiled, his handsome face a weapon he wielded when necessary.

"Oh, brother," Pepper exhaled.

He was handsome- yes, and possessed a number of quirks, but one of his biggest faults: bluntness to the point of tactlessness. She stretched her long, lean legs out from underneath her, observing the two in case she needed to provide assistance.

"You're so arrogant!" Ryley fumed, feeling her blood pressure and temper rise, her cheeks flushed with anger, muscles taut with fury, arms across her chest. "What made you think I wouldn't find out?"

He smirked, brown eyes sparkling, mannerisms nonchalant. "Oh, I knew you would. I was hoping Fury would've held off a little longer. I mean, you're perfect," he gestured at her while pouring their preferred beverages.

Ryley closed her eyes tightly, counting to twenty, trying to abate her frustration and rage. "How can you say that? The man is a murderer! He destroyed Manhattan, severely crippled our organization, attacked Phil and numerous others! What would possess you to recommend my participation in this? I'm nothing special. I have no powers or abilities. I'm just me."

"Yes, he did all that and more, I know, but he won't attack you. Not when he learns who you are. Trust me. Your brother gave him a beating he'll never forget, and I'm sure he'll be more cautious and unwilling to cause another provocation with the big guy."

Biting her lower lip she asked, "Speaking of my brother...does he know about this?" She marched over to the bar, snatching her drink from his extended hand, taking a large swallow, feeling a slight burn from the alcohol sliding down her throat.

He hesitated, knowing the big guy would be unhappy, to put it mildly. "I was going to tell him."

"When?"

He took a huge swallow of his drink and ran his tongue over his lips. "After your assignment began."

"Tony!" Pepper exclaimed in disbelief.

She exhaled and shook her head at his stupidity. He did things like this constantly, but this was a new low. "Did you expect him to show up and say, 'Hey, guess what? Your sister's babysitting a psychotic, villainous menace?' Do you want him to tear up your building- which may I remind you just had the final repairs completed?" She rolled her eyes at his inconsiderate manner, although she was used to it, subjected to it more often than she cared to admit. She was more upset that he'd dare to draw others into his boorish ways. Two people they both considered close, personal friends. Honestly, Bruce and Ryley were more family than friends.

"Come on, Ry," his voice admonished, his tone dropped lower, placating. "Now's your chance. The chance so many have been dying for."

"A chance for what, you ass? To get killed? Tortured?"

Tony came to stand behind her, placing a hand lightly on her left shoulder. "His reasoning."

"Besides being a genocidal maniac?"

He smiled, feeling the impending win. "Why he did it. Everyone wants to know. S.H.I.E.L.D couldn't drag the answer from him, neither could Thor. He wouldn't suspect a woman who looks as you do."

Her green eyes widened in fury, her left fist swung out and hit him with a ferocious left hook. "Why? Because I'm really overweight?" The bastard had nailed one of her greatest insecurities. Her brother had been blessed with the trim build of their father while she'd been cursed to suffer the physique of their mother.

Brown eyes widened, stunned at her accusation.

Pepper inhaled sharply. She prayed that he wouldn't fall further into his typical open mouth, insert foot syndrome. This conversation had quickly escalated in a verbal, emotional, landmine field.

"No. Not because of your weight or excess thereof," he ducked a second punch thrown his way and dropped his glass of scotch while Pepper sighed hopelessly and muttered, "Idiot." Gripping both her hands in his he looked into her stricken eyes. "He wouldn't suspect you because you're beautiful."

She laughed harshly at his words. "Beautiful?! Yeah, right. Try not to step in the bullshit when you leave, Tony."

"It's true, Ry." Pepper interceded quickly, her voice calm, assuring. "Tony might lie or exaggerate many things, but a woman's appearance isn't one of them. He's too much a pig at heart."

"Thanks, Pep." Tony muttered and rolled his eyes at her reply. "Anytime, Tony."

Eyes softening, facial features relaxing and shoulders slumping, she sighed. "Fine."

He released her fists and stepped away, apologizing for his ignorant handling of the situation. "So, you'll do it, Ryley? You won't have to worry about your safety. I'll be here as will the rest of the team. Even Thor will remain here to ensure Loki's good behavior. There's nothing to fear."

"I know," she replied numbly. "There's nothing to fear but fear itself."

"Exactly," he replied with a brilliant smile.

"Don't push me, Stark," she growled lowly, fighting back the urge to punch him again. "What about Bruce?"

Her brother was a good man. A good man tortured by a rather large inner demon. Anger. An immense propensity he avoided, or attempted to, at all costs. He was her brother, her protector first. Even his massive, counter personality agreed completely when it came down to her safety. Some time ago when he'd dated Betty, the general had come after her, seeing as how she was the closest, quickest way to get to Bruce, Betty aside. The eventual standoff led to Ryley being shot and almost dying; however, the damage inflicted by the hulk...substantial, the devastation following in his wake resulted in costly monetary terms and human lives. Many people had suffered that day, but none other than the conscience of her conflicted brother. So many lives weighed heavily on his mind and heart, so he retreated from society, living on the fringes, reluctant to inflict his darker, volatile self on others.

Shaking herself out of a rather sad memory, she asked, "What about my brother? How will you handle this? How will you handle him?"

"Good question." His eyes slid over to Pepper. "Let us handle him," he said, tilting his head in his girlfriend's direction.

Pepper joined his side, wrapping her arm around his waist and assured her, "We'll handle your brother, don't worry." She stretched out her hand to lightly touch her arm. "Everything will be fine, Ry, we promise."

Ryley turned to leave. "Tony, you better get your anti-hulk precautions ready," she threw over her shoulder and went back to her room. "The shit's gonna hit the fan." Her words followed her down the hall causing Tony to flinch slightly at her spot-on prediction.

"We've got a lot of work to do," Pepper exhaled. "You know how protective he is of her, Tony! How could you hand her over to them? Especially for an assignment of this magnitude. If anything happens to her..."

Tony leaned in, kissing her tenderly. "I know," he breathed, "I know." His tone, the breathlessness of his words emphasized how nervous he was should things fall apart. If things went to hell...his head would be the first to roll and he'd lose one of the closest friends who actually understood any of his scientific babble, the man behind his multi-faceted personality. Bruce was the only man who understood his reasoning, the manner in which his mind worked, fast and furious.

"Mr. Stark?"

The accented voice of his AI broke the tension. "Your guests have arrived."

Anxiety churned in his stomach, the imbibed alcohol creating a nauseating mixture combined with impending suspense made him pray things wouldn't go south. If it did, little would help them should Banner lose his shit. Time to face the music, he mentally sighed and gently squeezed his girlfriend's hand and hoped for the best. "Send them up, Jarvis. Oh, and send Ryley to the living room," he ordered.

"Yes sir," came the automated reply.

He swallowed hard and squeezed his girlfriend's hand. He shot a meaningful glance at Ryley as she reentered the living room and moved to stand beside them.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered, fighting the urge to run, to vomit. Her stomach plummeted as the elevator reached the penthouse and the doors slid open with a smooth motion and its occupants and entered the living room, grim and silent.

A/N: This was started after I watched Thor the The Avengers multiple times post watching Thor 2. I'd be appreciative if you guys would review, if you like it, and let me know should I write more.


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